Chapter 3
Sitting at the breakfast table, Maxwell let out a quiet groan. He didn't drink himself into oblivion last night, but he had enough to still leave him with a throbbing headache in the morning. That, and the lack of sleep wasn't much help either.
"Daddy, are you okay?" Grace asked her father.
Maxwell rubbed a hand over his face. He glanced over at Grace, who was studying him quizzically. "Yes. Everything's fine, sweetheart. I'm just tired, that's all." He let out a long yawn before taking a drink of coffee. He set his coffeecup down then unfolded the newspaper and started paging through it, shielding his face from his children.
All three Sheffield children looked at one another from across the breakfast table, unsure of the state their father was in. He was usually distant and quiet in the mornings, but today he seemed wistful and agitated. Maggie, who was sitting next to Brighton, elbowed her brother in the arm. She gave him a look and nodded towards Max.
"Um, dad?" Brighton started as he pushed his eggs around on his plate.
"What is it, Brighton?" Max asked into his newspaper.
"Is it ok if we go to the park after school? Nanny Kline said she'd take us, but we have to ask you first."
"You three have been spending an awful lot of time at the park lately." He paused. Then after he'd given it proper thought, Max set his newspaper down with unnecessary vehemence. "Margaret, please tell me you didn't meet some boy there and have been meeting him every week?"
Maggie's cheeks turned red at her father's implication. She knew she was at that age where she was becoming a young woman but always felt uncomfortable at the mention of boys, especially around her father. She stared down at her half eaten waffle and mumbled, "No, Father. We're meeting a friend."
Maxwell crossed his arms over his chest. "And when were you going to mention this friend, hmm? When he unexpectedly shows up asking to take you out on a date?"
Maggie's cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red. This time she looked Max straight in the eye. That was it! "No! I told you it isn't some boy! What is it with you suggesting I'm hiding a boyfriend somewhere! You're never around to notice anyway!" Maggie stood up from her chair, eyes angry and on the verge of tears. "Her name is Fran and she enjoys spending time with us because our own father is too busy to even say two words to us!" She turned on her heel and stormed out of the dining room.
"Margaret!" Maxwell shouted after her, standing as well. But it was too late. He heard the front door slam then sat back down, feeling defeated.
Brighton and Grace looked at each other from across the table, confused as to what happened between Maggie and their father.
Maxwell angrily cut into his waffle, causing the porcelain plate to shriek with the friction from the knife. He stuffed the piece in his mouth, staring down at his plate the entire time. And like a hero come to save the day, Niles stepped into the dining room, instantly feeling the tension in the room.
"Children," Niles said, "I think it's time to gather your things for school." Brighton and Grace jumped from their chairs and practically sprinted from the table, happy to be out of the crosshairs of their father's irritable temper. Niles picked up their plates and started clearing the breakfast table.
"Niles, will you make sure Margaret gets to school safely?" Maxwell asked his butler while looking back down at his newspaper.
"I phoned the neighbors across the street when I heard Miss Margaret leave."
"Thank you."
Niles stared at his employer. He had no idea why he would be in such a sour mood. The talk they had in his office the previous night went well. What could have happened overnight to propel him to such a state? he wondered. Oh, how he'd like to just whack him upside the head for yelling at Maggie. Him and his habit of always jumping to conclusions.
Then, like a change of identity, Maxwell pushed his newspaper away and stood from his chair. "Maybe I'd better go talk to Grace and Brighton. I feel like such a bloody idiot. Treating my own children like that?" He ran a hand through his hair then shook his head in disappointment. He looked over at Niles. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, Niles. I never should have jumped to conclusions with Maggie. I just don't know what came over me."
"I'm not the one who needs to hear your disclosure," was all Niles said before taking the used breakfast dishes into the kitchen.
Maxwell let out a defeated sigh. He threw his napkin down on the table and left the dining room. He caught up with Grace and Brighton by the front door slinging their bookbags over their shoulders.
"Children, wait!" he called out. They turned and faced him but didn't say anything. "Brighton, Grace, I'm sorry for the way I acted at the breakfast table. I didn't mean anything I said to your sister."
They nodded in response and looked down at their feet for a moment. Brighton was the first to speak. "We're not the one you hurt. You should be apologizing to Maggie, not us."
"Brighton-" Max reached out to his son but he turned and opened the door, disappearing on the other side. He looked down at Grace. No matter what she was always there, always willing to listen to him. "Grace, sweetheart?" He knelt down so he was at eye level with her. "I'm very sorry. I didn't mean a word I said. It's just - I have a lot of things on my mind and I shouldn't have taken it out on you children. Please forgive me?" He held out his arms and she willingly jumped into them, wrapping her little arms around his neck.
"It's ok, daddy," she said into his ear. "I know you didn't mean it."
Max hugged his daughter tightly. His youngest was always the most forgiving. He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have her. "I love you, sweetheart. I know I don't say it enough but I want you to understand that I love you just as much as I love Brighton and Maggie, ok?"
She pulled away from him and nodded. "I love you too, daddy. Don't worry."
Her words almost brought tears to his eyes but he was able to keep them at bay for the moment. "You know what? How about I take you to the park today, how does that sound? Niles will drop you off at the theater and we'll make a day of it - the four of us?"
Grace smiled for the first time that morning. "Ok, daddy! Then you can meet Fran! She's really pretty and super nice and lots of fun!"
Maxwell would have toppled over if it weren't for the weight of his daughter in his arms keeping him anchored. Fran? Could it be the Fran that he met a few weeks ago? The Fran he couldn't get out of his head? Suddenly he didn't think he could breathe. His heart was beating too fast and the thought of seeing her again nearly made it stop. "I'd love to meet Fran." He smiled and smoothed his fingers through Grace's hair. "Now, Nanny Kline is waiting to take you to school. So I'll see you this afternoon ok?"
"Ok," she said, hugging him one last time.
Maxwell kissed his daughter on the head, then let her go, watching until the front door closed behind her.
It was a cloudy afternoon in New York City and Central Park was still busy and crowded. Maxwell kept a watchful eye on his children as they ran through the entrance of the park. Grace and Brighton were the first ones out the limo, and a brooding Maggie followed at a brisk walk, mostly to be out of his presence, Max suspected, than out of excitement.
He sighed. He had apologized to Maggie when Niles dropped them off at the theater earlier. She was still angry with him and he believed that the only reason she decided to accompany him was to see Fran. He couldn't blame her. He was just as happy to see Fran again as the children were, if not more so.
And there she was. Holding Grace's hand as they walked down the path, Maggie on her other side, and Brighton running ahead of them. The scene made him smile. He'd never witnessed his children adapt to someone so quickly (other than their mother of course). It had been a mistake to hire so many different nannies, but he needed help raising three children, and there was no other viable option. But seeing Fran interact and enjoying herself with his children made all the difference. She was what they needed - what he needed as well.
Maxwell picked up his pace, using his tall frame to catch up to Fran in a few long strides. When she noticed his presence she turned and gave him a surprised smile, which he gladly returned. He never tired of seeing that beautiful smile of hers.
She let go of Grace's hand, letting her and Maggie walk ahead, before glancing at Max. "I didn't expect you to accompany us, Max," she said. Their footfalls now fell in synch with each other.
He shrugged as if it were no big deal. "I've been meaning to take an afternoon off for a while. Though it's not the clearest day, just having you and the children along makes even the cloudiest day seem warm and beautiful."
Fran couldn't hide the unmistakable flush that crept up her neck into her cheeks. What was it with him? she thought. He could be so charming and suave without even trying. "Oh, Mr. Sheffield, you always know how to make me blush!" Though she wasn't usually formal with him, she found it playful and flirtatious to use his surname on occasion. He didn't seem to mind at all.
They slowed their pace and were able to turn and properly greet each other. "Well, I can't help it when I spend so much time with a beautiful woman."
There it was again. His flirtations were becoming more frequent as of late. She'd flirt back with him but always reminded herself that she was with someone else. That she was in love with someone else. Her smile began to fade at the thought. She had to keep her personal thoughts separate from her time with the Sheffields. It gave Fran a sickly feeling to merge the two. She enjoyed spending time with Max and his kids, but her personal life with John seemed to, in a way, taint her 'free time' with the kids - like sharing custody almost. Whatever the sole reason, she liked to keep thoughts of John as far away as possible when around Max. She knew he was emotionally repressed, could sense it the night they first met and at his play opening. She needed to be careful.
"Kids!" Fran called out. "Don't go too far where I can't see you, ok?" The children yelled something in response that Max couldn't quite make out. "Do you mind if we sit down?" she asked, spotting an open bench under a tall oak tree.
"Not at all." The two sat down next to each other in a calm moment of silence. They watched the children for a while, at peace with the sounds of nature and the bustling city behind them. Fran shifted in place, causing the hem of her short black skirt to rise. Maxwell tried not to stare at the exposed flesh of her thigh, which was covered by a dark nylon stocking. As a distraction he ran a hand through his hair and turned to watch Grace running around with her sister and a few other kids.
"So when are you getting married?" Max asked the inevitable. Her engagement hadn't bothered him too much, though inconvenient as it was, he was gratified to see her so happy.
Fran smoothed down her skirt and twisted her engagement ring around on her finger. "August 20." There was an awkward pause. "I can send you an invitation. It's not too late to add another guest and a plus one."
Maxwell thought hard for a moment. He didn't think he could accept. Though they are friends now, it would just seem too uncomfortable for him. And who would be his plus one anyway? He couldn't ask the bride-to-be, that was for sure. Fran was the first person he thought of when she mentioned it. "I'd love to go, but my schedule is so uncertain at this point. I'm not sure if I'll be free or not."
Fran nodded in understanding. "Of course. If you do decide let me know ASAP or else my mother will just kvetch. She's been the dictator of the wedding planning and trust me, you do not want to cross her in any way unless you're armed with a triple layer cheesecake." She laughed briefly but fell silent when he didn't join her.
"I will. And thanks for the heads up about your mother. I'd really like to meet her sometime."
"If you do meet my mother, be warned that any interaction with a Fine will be permanently ingrained in your memory." Off his confused and slightly horrified look, she patted his hand and smiled. "I'm sure she'd spoil your kids rotten though. She's been harping me about grandchildren since I left the womb - no joke either, I have proof. Even though my sister, Nadine, has two kids." Fran shook her head in disbelief.
Don't worry, you're already permanently ingrained in my memory. Maxwell stayed quiet the entire time she was talking. He loved listening to her unique voice and distinct Queens accent. A slight breeze rustled Fran's hair. Max reached out and pushed the stray tendrils behind her ear, letting his fingers linger against her cheek and jaw. He felt one of her hands cover the top of his, which was resting on his knee. He couldn't explain the way he felt at that moment. If it was love, he couldn't be entirely sure. If it was a touch between friends, he didn't mind. He just knew that he adored being near her, no matter what.
"Daddy!" Max heard his youngest call out to him. He dropped his hand from Fran's face, her hand retreating from the one on his knee, and turned to Grace's voice.
"What is it, sweetheart?" he relayed back.
She ran up to him, taking one of his hands. "My friend Billy's kite got stuck in a tree. Can you help get it down?"
Her doe-eyes pleaded with him and he couldn't say no. "Of course I'll help." He looked over at Fran who just smiled at him and nodded. He stood from the bench and let Grace lead the way.
Fran knocked on the door of her parents' apartment. She had just said goodbye to the Sheffields for the day and decided to pay her mother a visit.
Sylvia Fine, dressed in a dark red bath robe, let her daughter in the apartment. "Fran, I wasn't expecting you," she said.
Gazing at her mother's attire, Fran tried not to think of why her mother would be dressed in a robe in the middle of the day. "I know. I just wanted to stop by."
"Well you could have called." They made their way to the kitchen. "I was about to step into the bathtub. You want a cinnamon roll? There was bingo at Yetta's home today so I picked up a few. A little dry but they're still good." Sylvia placed a pastry box on the little kitchen table.
"No thanks, Ma. Where's Daddy? I saw his jacket on the coatrack."
"He's in the bathroom." Sylvia turned away from Fran. "Morty! Blow out the candles and get out of the tub before you fall asleep! Fran's here!"
Fran just rolled her eyes. Her parents could be such a hassle sometimes but she loved them, quirks and all.
"So what brings you by, sweetheart?"
Fran let out a long sigh. "Oh nothing important. I wasn't too far away, thought I'd drop by, see if there were any more wedding details we have to work out."
Sylvia shook her head. "Everything's on schedule, darling."
Fran nodded and reached into the open pastry box and pulled out a cinnamon roll.
"Is something troubling you? You didn't have a fight with John and ruin my wedding, did you?"
"No, Ma. It's not John." Fran started to pick apart her cinnamon roll to keep her hands busy while she thought of what to say. "It's-I met this guy a few weeks ago at this benefit John was invited to." She paused, gauging her mother's reaction. Her eyes were locked onto Fran's picked apart pastry. Good. "And well, we've sort of developed a relationship - strictly friends, nothing more. But he has these three kids - they're the most amazing kids I've ever met - and I feel so terrible that they don't have a mother to guide them through their formative years. Ma! If you want the roll just say so." Fran pushed her plate across the table to her mother.
Sylvia picked up the remains of the cinnamon roll. "I'm listening, sweetheart. You feel bad about this poor man's kids . . ."
"Yes. And I was going to say that their presence in my life is becoming more complicated."
With her mouth full, "Complicated, how?" Sylvia asked.
"If I should tell John about them. I know he isn't the jealous type and Mr. Sheffield is quite handsome, and I suspect John feels a little threatened by him, but, Ma, these kids need me. This family needs everything the Fine's have." After watching Sylvia finish the pastry, "Well, maybe not everything," Fran muttered. "Ma, should I tell John? I mean, I hate keeping this from him. I feel like I'm living two separate lives with two different families."
"Fran, if those kids' happiness means that much to you, I think John would understand. And this . . . Mr. Sheffield? If you care about him too - Frannie be careful. I don't want your heart to get broken. Daddy and I can't handle another 'Danny situation.'"
"I'll be careful, Ma, and don't worry. I love John with all my heart. But Maxwell is so sweet and generous, one of the nicest men I've ever met." Fran's mind wandered back to her afternoon in the park with the Sheffields. She could still picture Max holding a six-year old Gracie above his head to retrieve the lost kite from a tree. Rough-housing with Brighton, which she was genuinely surprised he'd participated in, being the sophisticated English businessman and all. Even wrapping an arm around Maggie's shoulders as they talked in hushed tones, apologizing to each other. He was a wonderful father when given the chance. "And he's only a friend - like Val. We've grown close, but good friends is all we can ever be."
"So you like this Mr. Sheffield - Maxwell?"
Fran could tell where her mother was going with this. "Yes, but as friends, like I said."
"Ok, darling. I just don't want you to lose everything you have. The wedding is only four months away. Remember your cousin Sheila? She canceled her wedding and ran off with the caterer? This family does not need another Shelia."
Fran rolled her eyes. "Yes, I remember. Being the tenth time you've told me that story since I announced my engagement." She smiled at her mother, always loving the unconventional talks and advice they shared. "Thanks for listening, Ma. I think I'll tell John when he gets home tonight. It'll be the last secret I have to get off my chest."
The two Fine women stood and left the kitchen. Sylvia hugged her daughter at the door. "Good for you, sweetheart. May that be your best marital advice. Never keep secrets from your husband. Except your age and weight, once you've been married a few years. That, you can lie through your teeth."
They both laughed. "Bye, Ma. Give Daddy a kiss for me?"
"Of course."
After saying goodbye, Fran turned and left her parents' apartment. She hoped she had enough time to catch the evening train home. She and John also lived in Queens but a few neighborhoods over in Astoria. They liked it there. Affordable for both their incomes and close, but not too close to her parents in Flushing.
Fran walked faster, her stiletto heels clicking on the sidewalk with each step. She had decided to take her mother's advice and tell John about the Sheffields. He had a right to know, and she wasn't going to risk a bad start to a marriage that hadn't even yet begun.
